


pierce me with thorns (bloom in my heart)

by moon__goddess



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Rivals to Lovers, gyuhao best brotp, its great, lifeguard AU, other members are mentioned but the important ones are tagged, people get locked in a closet and are forced to talk about feelings, summer jobs at a pool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25230361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon__goddess/pseuds/moon__goddess
Summary: This summer was supposed to be great.  Get a job, make some money, and chill out at the pool all day while doing so.  That was the plan.But the plan goes out the window the second Mingyu meets Lee Jihoon.written forYou Made My Summer Fest Prompt Y190
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 98
Collections: You Made My Summer Fest





	pierce me with thorns (bloom in my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to the prompter, this fic idea basically grabbed me and would not let me rest so i knew i had to write it!!
> 
>  **prompt:** _A and B are fighting and A says “Shut up” and B replies with “Make me”, congratulations, A is now 100% distracted by thinking B wants A to kiss him and B can obliterate A in combat.  
>  Any ship with Woozi  
> some kind of tension between them_
> 
> hope you enjoy~

The worst thing about lifeguarding, Mingyu thinks, sitting back in his lifeguard chair and blowing out a breath, isn’t that he has to deal with screaming kids and annoying parents all day, although that does majorly suck. And he actually likes kids.

It’s not sitting in the blazing heat for hours at a time, sweating off his sunscreen and then reapplying like a maniac, either, although that also sucks. Maintaining his tan while avoiding actual sunburn so he doesn’t end up like his friend Jiyeon from university, who literally turns the color of a lobster whenever she goes outside and who once got a sunburn that actually bubbled, is extremely hard work.

It’s also not cleaning the pool twice a day, even though that sucks too. Running a giant net through the water to catch all the leaves and seed pods that blow off the nearby trees for thirty minutes while the big filters churn out chlorine is really not Mingyu’s idea of fun.

The worst thing about lifeguarding isn’t any of that.

It’s the senior lifeguard who basically lives to make Mingyu’s life miserable. Lee Jihoon.

It all started on his first day of training.

He’d followed the nice senior lifeguard who’d been directing new employees at the front gate, Seungcheol, into the lifeguard hut, taking a whistle and employee pass from the girl with a bright smile who was handing them out, and then turned to the other senior lifeguard, who’d scanned a clipboard before looking up at him.

“Kim Mingyu,” he’d said, his voice bored, “new lifeguards are by the equipment shelves.”

“T-thanks,” Mingyu had stuttered, slightly (okay, very) intimidated by both the guy's intense gaze and his handsome face, and then he’d gone in the direction he’d been pointed.

One of the other newbies, a really nice guy named Vernon, had asked why he looked nervous. Mingyu had just gestured back towards the senior lifeguards and said, “The short one is kinda scary.” Vernon had laughed.

“Oh, that’s just Jihoon,” he’d said, grinning. “He’s a big softie, don’t worry; all bark and no bite.”

Then the pool director/chairperson/whatever his actual title was had swept in and started talking - well, more like droning - about the importance of pool safety and creating a good, happy environment for all who entered and prioritizing fun and enjoyment while simultaneously enforcing rules and how the pool was a community space created for the community by the community, and Mingyu and Vernon and another new lifeguard named Kyla had started quietly making fun of the way he talked, full of overexaggerated hand motions and cliched phrases, and one of them (he still wasn't sure who) had elbowed him while he was trying to keep his giggles silent, and he’d stumbled back a step, hoping against hope no one had noticed them clearly not paying attention, and when he swung around to check he whacked his hip against the bucket of pool noodles they were standing next to. The bucket had fallen over right as the director had paused for dramatic effect, and everyone had turned to look at the clatter.

“Sorry, sorry, it was an accident,” Mingyu had sputtered, frantically grabbing every pool noodle in reach and shoving them back in the bucket, his face flaming. The director had waved it off and kept talking, and when he’d finally collected all the fallen noodles, he’d locked eyes with the short scary lifeguard whose name Vernon had said was Jihoon, the one who was supposedly a big softie. 

Jihoon had glared at him so hard he thought he might actually die on the spot.

With the pool noodle incident hanging over his head, it seems like he could do no right in Jihoon’s eyes. Every shift, every task, every single thing he does, Jihoon has a snide comment to make. It’s infuriating. 

Of course, it’s made even more infuriating by two facts. One, Jihoon has a knack for pinpointing Mingyu’s insecurities with sarcastic one-liners that dig right under his skin. Getting constantly told off like that does wonders for his self-esteem. And two… Jihoon is stupidly, unfairly, infuriatingly attractive. Like, attractive enough that if Mingyu didn’t despise him with his entire being, he would be trying his damnedest to hit that. Metaphorically. He would never hit Jihoon, because he’d be afraid for his life if he did.

But he hates Jihoon, hates how small and insignificant the other lifeguard makes him feel, hates how easily he gets under his skin, hates how everyone else waxes poetic about him, so much so that he would never in a million years think about how broad Jihoon’s shoulders are, how sharp his jawline is, how pretty his hands are, how soft his brown hair looks in the sunlight, or how his laugh feels like a jolt of happiness. Nope. Those thoughts would never cross his mind.

Everything comes to a head in the first week of July, when Mingyu is climbing down from his lifeguard chair after the closing bell rings, making to go shoo the remaining teenagers out of the deep end. He hops the last couple of rungs on the ladder, looking forward to getting back into the air conditioning after a day of sitting under the sun, and turns to walk towards the diving board when Jihoon’s voice rings out from across the pool, making him stop in his tracks.

“Yah, Kim Mingyu!”

Mingyu sighs, trying not to clench his fists as he slowly turns around. “What now?” he grumbles.

Jihoon stalks towards him, a frown evident on his face - just like every other time Mingyu’s spoken to him. “How many times have I told you not to jump off the chair?” 

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “Seriously?” He crosses his arms, feeling his exhaustion bubble over into frustration. “It was two rungs, Jihoon, it’s not like I jumped from the top.”

“Good to know you take safety seriously,” Jihoon says sarcastically, his glare just as intense as ever.

“Jesus Christ.” Mingyu returns the glare, already fed up. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have this job, now would I.”

Jihoon scoffs. “I don’t know, they’re pretty desperate for people,” he replies.

The implication hits Mingyu like a blow to the stomach. He clenches his fists and takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he needs this job, he’s a poor university student, and if he punches his coworker he will most definitely get fired.

He exhales, deciding that getting into yet another verbal sparring match with Jihoon is really not what he needs right now. “Whatever,” he says, turning away from Jihoon to head toward the deep end, where Joshua and Kyla, the other two lifeguards on duty, are berating the group of teenagers who refuse to leave.

“Hey.” Warm fingers wrap around his wrist, jerking him to a stop. “I wasn’t done talking.”

Mingyu whips around, yanking his arm from Jihoon’s grip and steadfastly ignoring the tingle he can still feel. “Don’t touch me,” he growls.

“Don’t walk away from me.” Jihoon’s voice is flat, his eyes hard, and he looks unfairly hot, and Mingyu is just… done. He’s done.

“I can do what I want,” he snaps. “The conversation was over.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Jihoon says, fixing him with a glare. “You need to start thinking about your actions. If you don’t take your own safety seriously, how can you be expected to-”

“Oh my God, just shut. Up.” Mingyu is more than done. He can’t take this anymore, the constant berating, the sense of inferiority, the confusing tangle of emotions sitting in his chest. “Seriously, Jihoon, what is your damn problem?”

“My problem?” Jihoon blinks, a look of surprise flitting across his face before his glare returns.

“Yes, your problem.” Mingyu takes a step forward. “You always single me out, you nitpick everything I do, and you constantly criticize me like I don’t know how to do my damn job!”

Jihoon’s eyebrows raise, and he opens his mouth to respond, but Mingyu keeps going, all of his frustration from the past two months pouring out.

“I don’t know what kind of… vendetta or whatever you have, but you literally yell at me every single day, and I am so sick of it.” He takes another step, seeing as Jihoon isn’t moving. “You tell me I’m cleaning the pool wrong, you say my whistle isn’t shrill enough - or sometimes it’s too shrill, it changes every time, you get mad at me for doing the exact same things everyone else does, and it just - ugh, you just need to get off my back, I swear to God.”

“I need to get off your back?” Jihoon’s voice is low, dangerous, and Mingyu hates that the word ‘sexy’ flashes across his brain for the briefest of moments. “If you actually listened to me when I tell you to fix something, maybe I wouldn’t be constantly yelling at you.” He glares up at Mingyu. “The least you could do would be to do what I tell you.”

“Yeah, because that’s worked out so well before,” Mingyu mutters under his breath before he returns Jihoon’s glare. “I just don’t understand why you’re always up my ass, and about the stupidest things, too. Like who the fuck cares about which way I sweep the net when I’m cleaning the pool? Who gives a shit if my whistle doesn’t exactly match yours? Who cares if I hop the last two rungs of the lifeguard chair to get kids out of the pool faster?” He’s breathing hard, the words having spilled out of his mouth like a waterfall, forceful and unstoppable. “As long as everything gets done, and the result is the same, why the fuck do you care so much how it gets done? Because I sure as hell don’t, and I’d appreciate it -” he spits the words, towering over Jihoon as he does “- if you would shut up and leave me alone.”

Jihoon doesn’t seem fazed by his outburst, just looks up and meets his gaze with a level-headed stare. “Make me,” he says, in that low, dangerous, sexy voice, and Mingyu’s brain whites out.

The moment hangs between them, thick with tension, and Mingyu can feel himself flushing because what in God’s name is happening? Did Lee Jihoon, bane of his existence, the worst thing about this job, his (sort of) sworn enemy, actually just insinuate that he wants Mingyu to kiss him? What even the fuck???? That’s the only reason someone would say that… right? In that exact order? His thoughts are a mess. He feels like he’s simultaneously bouncing between conclusions and scenarios and any and all interpretations of this moment while also in a state of constant screaming. He doesn’t know what’s happening. ‘Make me?’ he thinks. The most sexually-charged thing to say when someone tells you to shut up. And he won’t - he can’t - deny that he’s not thinking about it. Because he definitely is. He’s definitely thinking about kissing Jihoon, kissing that stupid smirk off his soft-looking lips, letting his hands wind into his hair, seeing if he’s really as broad as he looks underneath his baggy t-shirts.

Jihoon smirks, bringing Mingyu back to the present. “Didn’t think so,” he says, and shoulders past him.

Mingyu stumbles back a step, still slightly disoriented from the roller coaster of feelings he’d just been on, and overbalances.

He locks eyes with Jihoon, who just stands there and watches as he falls into the pool.

“Care to explain why you’re soaking wet?”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow at Minghao, who leans forward and plants his elbows on the snack bar counter. 

“You didn’t see?” he asks, grumpily wringing out the bottom of his T-shirt.

“What I saw,” Minghao replies, “was an angry little man storming past here five minutes ago, and now here you are, getting chlorinated pool water all over my counter.”

“Don’t call him little,” Mingyu mumbles. “You know he hates it.”

“Please, I’ll only get in trouble if he hears me.” Minghao tilts his head, studying him. “Did he finally do something about all that sexual tension you two have going on?”

“Jesus, Minghao,” Mingyu snaps. “I fell. That’s all.” He shoots him a glare. "And there's no _sexual tension_ , I don't know what gave you that idea."

“Mhm.” 

Mingyu watches as his best friend turns away and starts rummaging through a drawer. “You sound like you don’t believe me.”

“Because I don’t,” Minghao says, tossing him a dish towel. “Here, do something useful and clean up your mess instead of just standing there moping.”

“Uh…” Mingyu looks at the towel in his hands, then at the wet counter, then back at Minghao, who looks back at him, eyebrows raised, his expression as inscrutable as always. “Fine,” he says, starting to smile, “but only because you asked so nicely.”

Minghao’s words ring through his brain as he walks home.

Clean up your mess.

But he doesn’t know where to start.

He unlocks his front door and waves at his mom, who’s sitting in the living room reading a book, before he heads upstairs to his room, where he immediately flops on his bed and groans into his pillow.

Stupid fucking Jihoon, he thinks, stupid Jihoon with his stupid smirk and his stupid hair and his stupid sexy voice.

And then he smushes his face farther into his pillow and groans again, because his brain has re-conjured up the images of kissing Jihoon, and he can't deny that he's _curious_ , that the thought is somewhat (okay, a bit more than somewhat) appealing.

Mingyu rolls onto his back, clutching his pillow, and stares at the ceiling. Does he... no, he can't even think it. He doesn't like Jihoon. Not at all. He refuses to even entertain the idea. Not only because he hates him, but because then that would mean that Minghao was right about the tension, and admitting to Minghao that he was right is literally asking for a litany of "I told you so" and smug smiles for a month.

Of course, that doesn't stop him from dreaming that night, dreaming of thin fingers and broad shoulders and a low voice that whispers "Make me," and when he wakes up, breathing hard and uncomfortably warm, he's forced to acknowledge that he just might feel something other than hate.

The next week goes about as smoothly as Mingyu expects, with more and more people coming to the pool as the weather gets hotter, and he keeps himself as busy as he can - because he knows that if he stops working, stops moving, takes even a second to think, his mind will invariably drift to Jihoon.

It doesn't help when Jihoon backs off from his constant berating, instead content to just watch as Mingyu cleans the pool, as Mingyu fixes the 'NO RUNNING' signs, as Mingyu sits in his lifeguard chair, sweating off his sunscreen. He's so _aware_ of Jihoon now that he can feel his gaze and he knows that he's there, that he's looking, and that's honestly part of why he stays busy, because he knows if he doesn't keep moving he's going to do something he might regret.

The week after that, though, Seungcheol goes on vacation with his boyfriend, so Jihoon is left in charge as the most senior lifeguard on staff, which means he's too busy to watch everything Mingyu does.

The entirety of Monday goes by with no Jihoon glaring daggers into his back, and while Mingyu appreciates the peace, he finds himself looking around the pool every half hour or so, oddly missing the feeling of eyes boring into his back, before spotting him talking to an aggrieved parent or sorting inner tubes or stalking around with a clipboard.

Minghao catches him scanning the pool during his break the next day, when he trails off in the middle of their conversation about the best local delivery places, and when he sees what Mingyu's staring at he grins.

"Oh, how the tables have turned," he says, elbowing Mingyu in the side. "Look at you."

"What?" Mingyu blinks and looks away from Jihoon smiling gently at a little girl as he puts a bandage on her scraped elbow. "I'm not doing anything."

"Uh-huh." Minghao gives him a supremely unimpressed look. "You're definitely not staring at the senior lifeguard you always complain about with little cartoon hearts in your eyes, that's not what you're doing _at all_."

"Shut up," Mingyu mumbles, feeling his face heat and trying valiantly to stifle his embarrassment. "I am not."

"Whatever you say." Minghao shifts in his seat, glancing back at the snack bar to make sure Seungkwan, his coworker, isn't too swamped with the lunch rush, and then returns his gaze to Mingyu. "Seriously, Gyu, what is up with you and Jihoon?"

“Nothing’s up,” Mingyu replies, crossing his arms.

Minghao raises a brow. “Fine, don’t tell me,” he says. “Not like I’m your best friend and I know you like the back of my hand or anything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“I’ve had to listen to you complain about him _constantly_ , Gyu. Every single day. And then the two of you had that fight, and he pushed you in the pool-”

“I fell!” Mingyu says hotly. “I. Fell. There was no pushing.”

“Sure you did.” Minghao rolls his eyes. “And now you’re sitting here making heart eyes at the man. All of that sure seems like something.”

“First of all, I am _not_ making fucking heart eyes,” Mingyu retorts. “And second, he hates me. He makes my daily life miserable. I have every right to complain about him. There is nothing - _nothing_ \- of the sort that you’re implying.”

“Then why have you been staring at him?” Minghao fires back.

“I… Because…” Mingyu flounders for a second, the images he’s been failing to repress briefly flashing across his mind, before he finds words. “Because he’s stopped constantly berating me, and it’s weird.”

“Elaborate,” Minghao says, resting his chin in his hands. “Since I’d think you’d be glad he’s stopped.”

“Of course I’m glad!” Mingyu leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… weird, you know? I’m so used to him criticizing me at all hours of the day, and now he’s just _stopped_ , and I don’t know why.”

Minghao glances at something behind him and then sighs heavily. “It’s not that complicated, Gyu.”

“Yes it _is_ .” Mingyu pushes his hair out of his face again. “He’s spent the last two months basically torturing me, and all of a sudden he’s not even speaking to me? It’s _weird_ , Haohao.”

“Maybe whatever you said to him during your fight got through?”

Mingyu snorts derisively. “Ha. I wish.” He crosses his arms. “More like he’s plotting something.”

“You paranoid bastard,” MInghao says, chuckling lightly. “You make him sound like a bad movie villain.”

“Yeah, because he’s the villain _of my life_ ,” Mingyu replies.

“Well…” Minghao pauses before smirking at him. “You know what they say about heroes and villains.”

Mingyu blinks at him for a second before the meaning makes itself clear. “Ugh, gross, no,” he sputters, starting to laugh as he reaches across the table to whack his friend’s arm. “Has Vernon been sending you his Loki fanfiction again? Because he’s the only one who regularly spouts the ‘heroes and villains have the best relationships’ bullshit.”

“I’ll never tell.”

Mingyu swats him again, which makes Minghao start laughing as well.

The rest of the week passes by quickly, in a stream of warm days and giggling kids in inner tubes and Jihoon still not watching him, or speaking to him, or even acknowledging his existence. He spends the weekend watching movies on Netflix and video chatting with his friends from university (Jiyeon is, unsurprisingly, sunburnt, and she cackles when he tells her about falling in the pool. Wonwoo is more sympathetic to his plight, but he says “Well, he’s got a point” when Mingyu relays what Minghao had said about heroes and villains, which leads to a heated argument about the portrayal of relationships in media that ends with both of them sniggering over some truly terrible fan edits), and before he knows it he’s back in his lifeguard chair on Monday morning, already sweating from the heat.

Seungcheol is back from his vacation, and when Mingyu waves at him from across the pool he grins and waves back. Mingyu is glad to see the older lifeguard looking more relaxed, his skin tanner than before.

Wait.

Seungcheol is back.

Meaning that he’s back to being in charge.

Meaning that Jihoon now has the time to go back to watching everything he does.

_Fuck._

It takes an hour.

One hour after the pool opens, one hour of relative quiet, the only people in the pool a family with three young kids in the shallow end and the two regulars who use the lap lanes every morning, one hour of calm, before Mingyu feels the piercing gaze drilling into his side.

He turns, keeping an eye on the kids, who are now splashing around and giggling, and meets Jihoon’s stare head-on.

They look at each other, neither willing to back down. Mingyu raises an eyebrow, watching as Jihoon’s gaze narrows, and then Seungcheol appears at Jihoon’s side, making him blink and look away.

Mingyu exhales, feeling the tension drain from his body. He returns his attention to the family, briefly noting that Seungcheol slings his arm around Jihoon’s shoulders before steering him towards the lifeguard hut.

When he goes on his lunch break in the early afternoon, ceding his chair to Kyla, he immediately heads to the snack bar to find Minghao and update him on this newest development. To his surprise, when he ducks under the awning that protects the tables from the sun, he spots Minghao deep in conversation with Seungcheol, the older lifeguard listening intently as he explains something. He makes his way over to them, waving at Vernon, who’s chatting with Seungkwan at the counter, as he walks by.

“What’s up, guys,” MIngyu says, smiling as he drops into the open chair next to Minghao.

“Hey, Mingyu,” Seungcheol says, grinning back at him. “You on break?”

“Yup.” Mingyu stretches his arms behind his back, wincing at the pull on his stiff shoulders. “Gotta get out of the sun for a bit. You know how it is.”

Seungcheol chuckles. “I certainly do,” he replies. “Looks like I should get going, then. I’ll see you later, Minghao.” He stands, smiling at both of them, before heading back out toward the pool.

Mingyu turns to his friend, curiosity burning his insides. “I didn’t know you were friends with Seungcheol,” he says.

“Uh, not really,” Minghao responds. “But Junhui knows his boyfriend, Jeonghan, since they both work at the froyo place downtown, so…”

“I see.” Mingyu waggles his eyebrows. “Gonna double date, huh?”

“Shut up.” Minghao shoves him, his face flushing pink, and Mingyu can’t help but laugh. 

“Come on, Minghao,” he says through his giggles, “just _tell him_ already, he clearly likes you too!”

“You’re an idiot,” Minghao shoots back. “I’m not taking _your_ advice about this.”

“Don’t call me an idiot, you’re the one being stupid about it,” Mingyu replies, elbowing him. “I will literally drag you to Chillax myself, don’t try me.”

“Stupid name for a froyo shop,” Minghao mumbles. “Chillax, please. Lamest name ever.”

Mingyu gives him a Look.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he says, exasperated. “Seungcheol told me that Jeonghan’s going to help, so there’s no need to drag me anywhere.”

“As long as you actually ask him out, I don’t care how many people help you.” Mingyu grins at the way Minghao’s blush doubles in color.

Minghao seems to take his words to heart, because over the next four days Mingyu sees him talking to almost everyone who works at the pool. He spends most of his time with Seungcheol, the two of them huddled by the snack bar counter practically every time Mingyu glances over there from his chair, but he spots him laughing with Joshua, talking animatedly with Vernon (Mingyu catches the word “villain” as he walks by them to get some pool noodles out of the equipment shed, so he _knows_ he was right about the Loki fanfic), and even chatting with Kyla and the other lifeguard whose name Mingyu always forgets (Hayoung? Nayoung? He’s not sure). 

On Friday afternoon Seungcheol’s boyfriend makes an appearance, all pale skin and dark hair and angular features, and Mingyu watches from his lifeguard chair as he presses a kiss to Seungcheol’s cheek and then throws an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders, his smile huge. Jihoon shoves him away, but Mingyu can see that he’s laughing, his smile bright enough to break through the grey clouds they’ve had all day.

Jihoon starts to turn, like he can sense Mingyu staring at him, and Mingyu quickly returns his gaze to the pool, going back to watching two girls do cannonballs off the diving board like they’ve been doing for the past thirty minutes.

Later, his watch finally beeps at him as the alarm he’d set for closing time goes off, and he blows his whistle, one long, sharp note that signifies closing. The few people still in the pool start making for the edges and the ladders, and Mingyu can see a father scooping his kids out of the shallow end. As he climbs down from his chair, he sees the group of girls that had been lounging in the chairs by the deep end scoop up their things and start walking towards the entrance, talking amongst themselves. He spots a couple of kids still in the water, loitering by the diving board, and sighs to himself. He wants to go home, the sooner the better. He glances across the pool to the other lifeguard chair, where Vernon is patiently explaining something to an agitated parent, and when he doesn’t see anyone else, he jumps the last few rungs. His flip-flops slap the cement as he lands, and he swings his torp buoy over his shoulder as he heads towards them.

“Yah. Kim Mingyu.”

The voice from behind him stops him in his tracks.

He turns, crossing his arms, preparing himself for whatever harsh words get thrown his way.

But all Jihoon says is “Don’t forget to put the pool noodles away” before he walks back toward the lifeguard hut, carrying a stack of towels.

Mingyu watches him go, watches his broad shoulders under his baggy white t-shirt, watches the muscles in his legs shift as he walks, and then shakes himself out of it and heads over to the diving board.

He gets the kids out of the pool and then collects all the pool toys that are floating around, making more than a few trips to the equipment shed to get everything put away. The inner tubes are a bitch to carry, since they try not to deflate them unless absolutely necessary, but he finally gets them all hung up. He grabs the net, heading back out to clean the pool of any debris, and as he skims the net along he feels the prickle of someone’s gaze on the back of his neck.

He knows exactly who it is, so he ignores him, continuing to trap the leaves that have been blown off the trees into the pool. When he finishes, he props the net up at his feet and leans on the pole, taking a second to rest as he scans the pool for anything he missed.

He doesn’t see anything in terms of pool toys or floating leaves, but he does see Minghao, Seungcheol, and Seungcheol’s boyfriend (whose name he’s pretty sure Minghao said was Jeonghan) standing together on the pool deck, watching him. He waves obnoxiously at them, which makes Minghao roll his eyes and Seungcheol shoot him a thumbs up. Jeonghan (yeah, he thinks, that sounds right) doesn’t do anything, just shrugs and says something to Minghao, who smiles.

Mingyu stretches, a few muscles in his back popping, and then brings the net back to the shed, happy to be done for the day. He grabs his backpack out of the lifeguard hut and makes his way to the gate, wanting nothing more to go home and flop on his bed for a few hours.

“See you tomorrow, Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls as he approaches the gate.

“Oh, right,” he says. “See you tomorrow, Cheol.” He waves, makes a ‘text me later’ gesture at Minghao, and then pushes the gate open and heads home.

Mingyu’s alarm blares in his ear, startling him out of sleep. He blinks, rubbing his eyes, and the last image of whatever he was dreaming about fades, leaving him with an impression of a smile and warm skin.

He stretches, sitting up and glancing at his phone to make sure he hasn’t missed anything overnight (he hasn’t, all his notifications are those stupid ones that games send you when you haven’t played them in a few hours, interspersed with Instagram updates from a couple of singers he likes), and then he hauls himself out of bed to get ready for the day.

Working Saturdays is a pain, but he gets paid time and a half, which he reminds himself of as he walks into the pool and sees the amount of people that are already waiting for them to open. Time and a half, he thinks, tossing his backpack into a cubby in the lifeguard hut and grabbing his whistle. His bank account will thank him for this.

That is, if he manages to get through the day.

Because when he looks at the schedule that’s pinned to the wall, the other person who’s assigned the full day is none other than Lee Jihoon.

He scans the schedule again. Seungcheol and Vernon are both scheduled for shifts, overlapping in the afternoon at peak hours, and Joshua is on call for backup if needed. Kyla is supposed to be in now to help them open, but then she’s listed as unavailable, and Nayoung (Nayoung, he repeats in his mind, the other lifeguard’s name is Nayoung, he’s determined not to forget it this time) is off for the weekend.

Okay.

He can get through this. There will be other people around. It won’t be as awful as he thinks.

“Yah, Kim Mingyu.”

He turns around, his hopes already sinking.

“Grab the net and let’s go,” Jihoon says from where he’s sticking his head in the door. “Kyla’s late and we need to open on time.”

Mingyu blows out a breath. “Okay,” he says.

They get through setup without any major issues, although Mingyu attributes that to the amount of tasks they have and the fact that they split the work between opposite sides of the pool to get it done faster. Kyla doesn’t show up, though she does call Jihoon ten minutes before opening, frantically explaining about a broken pipe and water damage in her house and apologizing profusely before Jihoon cuts her off and says that she doesn’t need to worry about coming in and he’ll make sure she won’t get penalized. Mingyu only hears the call because he’s laying out towels on the pool chairs when Jihoon’s phone rings, so he doubles back to finish the group of chairs Jihoon had started. He begrudgingly gives Jihoon a point for calming Kyla down and being understanding.

They open, and Mingyu climbs into his lifeguard chair, already ready for the day to be over. He doesn’t need to give Jihoon any more points for handling issues well.

The morning drags on, and more and more people show up. Mingyu is surprised at the amount, especially given the cloud cover, but it’s hot enough that he understands why everyone wants to get in the water. When Seungcheol shows up for his shift, Mingyu gladly cedes his chair to him for a bit, happy to pop back into the lifeguard hut for some much-needed air conditioning (not really, just a ton of fans, but the moving air feels refreshing on the back of his neck) and his water bottle. He takes a sip and heads back out, intending to get Seungkwan to fill it for him at the snack bar, when he walks by Jihoon fixing the ‘No Running’ sign near the shallow end.

“I fixed those earlier,” Mingyu says, making Jihoon stiffen in surprise for a second. 

“Well, I’m fixing them again.” Jihoon’s tone is hard and unyielding, and Mingyu retracts any points he may or may not have given him.

He scoffs. “Whatever,” he says, and continues walking toward the snack bar.

Seungkwan is busy, but he takes a second to fill Mingyu’s water bottle, for which Mingyu smiles gratefully at him. Seungkwan shoots him a thumbs up and then returns his attention to his phone call, saying, “Please, Minghao, you have to come in, I’m swamped.”

Mingyu grins and calls “Come see me, Haohao,” and he can hear Minghao’s answering chuckle through Seungkwan’s phone speakers as he walks away.

He makes his rounds of the pool, noting that Jihoon seems to be redoing all of the things he’d done that morning, which bothers him _so much_ , but he does his best to ignore him and smile at the kids who are running up to him and asking for pool toys. He opens the equipment shed for them, handing out pool noodles and a couple of inner tubes, and then he fits a cute toddler with floaties at the mother’s request, and then he times kickboard races between some of the older kids that he recognizes, and before he knows it it’s the afternoon.

Vernon finally arrives, right before a swell of people, and Mingyu appreciates the extra eyes on the pool, since it’s getting more than a little crowded. The one time he glances over at the snack bar, he sees both Minghao and Seungkwan darting around to get everyone’s orders filled. Seungcheol is manning both the first aid kit and the equipment shed, Vernon is in the chair by the shallow end, and Jihoon is in the chair closest to the diving board, his gaze intense as he watches the pool.

Mingyu watches him.

He watches Jihoon’s thin fingers mindlessly drum on his torp buoy, he watches the muscles in his legs shift when he adjusts his position, he watches his broad shoulders twist as he scans the surrounding area. 

And then Jihoon looks up and locks eyes with him.

Mingyu jerks his gaze away, back down to the center of the pool where some teenagers are playing bumper tubes, but he can feel Jihoon’s eyes stay on him.

Midway through the afternoon, a large dark cloud floats across the sky, one darker than any of the others had been all day, and Mingyu sees Seungcheol glance up at it, looking worried, before ducking into the lifeguard hut.

He waits another five minutes, and the sky darkens even more, and then Seungcheol emerges, wearing his serious face. Mingyu sighs, and when he sees Seungcheol signal him, he blows his whistle to clear the pool.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” Seungcheol calls, “but we have a thunderstorm warning for the rest of the day, so to ensure everyone’s safety we will be closing the pool, effective immediately.”

Mingyu climbs down from his lifeguard chair, smiling slightly to himself at the assorted moans and groans he can hear from kids complaining to their parents, and begins to gather discarded pool toys.

He brings an armful of pool noodles to the shed, shoving them in their bucket, and when he goes back out to grab the inner tubes that are resting against his chair he feels the first drop of rain hit his face.

“Dammit,” he mumbles, increasing his pace as the rain continues to fall, getting faster and faster every minute. Families are hurrying their kids out, using towels as umbrellas, and the pool empties faster than Mingyu thought possible. 

He shoves his wet hair out of his face and grabs a pair of floaties left on a pool chair, glancing around for any other forgotten toys. He spots two kickboards hiding behind the diving board, a pool noodle under a chair, and a few diving rings stacked on a table, so he scoops them all up and hurries back to the equipment shed, passing Minghao and Vernon huddling under the snack bar awning and Seungcheol half inside the lifeguard hut. He envies them their chance to shield themselves from the now-pounding rain, but the sooner he cleans up, the sooner he can go home and dry off.

He shoulders the door to the equipment shed open, letting it slam shut behind him, and drops the kickboards into their bin.

The clatter apparently startles someone, because Mingyu hears a bump and a low curse from behind the inner tubes, and then Jihoon appears, rubbing the side of his head. He stops in his tracks when he sees Mingyu hanging the floaties on the wall.

“Of course it was you,” he says ruefully. 

Mingyu stiffens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jihoon huffs and rolls his eyes. “That you’re incapable of being quiet.” He hangs up the life vest he’s holding. “I should have guessed, no one else makes that amount of noise.”

Mingyu stuffs the pool noodle into the bucket and then crosses his arms. “Is that some sort of veiled insult?”

Jihoon shrugs. “If the shoe fits.” He brushes by Mingyu and reaches into the kickboard bin, picking up the two Mingyu had dropped in there and replacing them neatly on top of the stack. “And you really should put things away properly.”

“Sorry I’m not OCD like you,” Mingyu snaps. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, we’re just gonna take them out again tomorrow.”

“It’s not about that,” Jihoon fires back. “It’s about professionalism.”

“Are you saying I’m not professional?”

“I’m saying that you could try a little harder, that’s all.”

Mingyu gapes at him. “You’re not serious right now.”

“I’m always serious,” Jihoon replies.

“You’re telling me I don’t try?” Mingyu can’t help it; his voice raises. “Me. Of all people.”

Jihoon starts to respond, but Mingyu cuts him off. “You know what, I don’t want to hear it.” He whirls around and stalks to the door, yanking it open.

Or he tries to, anyway. Because the door doesn’t budge.

He pulls on the handle again, hoping that it’s just a little sticky because of the storm, but it doesn’t move. He tries again, going so far as to shake the door, but it won’t move. All he can hear is the rattling of the metal latch outside, the pounding rain on the roof, and the gusts of wind rushing through the trees.

_Shit._

“Don’t tell me.” Jihoon’s voice rings out before he can say anything. “Do. Not. Tell. Me.”

Mingyu glares at him. “Unfortunately, we’re locked in.”

“Fuck,” Jihoon says, and the anger coiling in Mingyu’s stomach sparks, sending a thrum through his chest.

He has to get out of here.

“Hey, we’re locked in!” he shouts, banging on the door, hoping that Seungcheol hears him. “Can you come unlock-”

A huge clap of thunder drowns out the rest of his sentence, and the rain impossible doubles in intensity, the pounding of raindrops like an incessant drumbeat.

“They won’t be able to hear us,” Jihoon says. “Did you try, oh, I don’t know, calling them?”

Mingyu raises his eyebrows. “No, I didn’t. Why don’t you call them?”

Jihoon frowns. “Because my phone is in the lifeguard hut, where it’s supposed to be when I’m on duty,” he growls.

“There’s your answer then.” Mingyu turns back to the door, wiggling the handle to see if he can jimmy the latch from this side. “I don’t break the rules, much as you like to think I do.”

“It was a reasonable assumption,” Jihoon snaps. “Past actions and all that.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Mingyu whirls around, feeling his temper rise. “Name _one time_ I’ve broken the rules.”

“Jumping the chair rungs, talking to other staff while on duty, not cleaning up properly, not whistling on time,” Jihoon says, counting on his fingers, “plus lord knows how many other things I haven’t seen or am forgetting.”

“Literally _none_ of those are actual rules,” Mingyu snarls. “I would know, I memorized the handbook my first week. They’re just stupid fucking reasons for you to criticize me, which you do all the damn time.” He takes a step forward. “What is your _problem_ with me, Jihoon? What did I ever do to you?”

Jihoon glances at him for a second, his gaze burning, before he turns to straighten the floaties on the wall. “You exist,” he mumbles, half under his breath. “That’s the problem.”

Mingyu’s temper flares. He walks forward and slams his hands on the wall, trapping Jihoon between them. “Then you’ve got to fucking get over it,” he growls. “I’m not fucking going _anywhere_.”

Jihoon looks up, shoulders tense, and locks eyes with him.

Mingyu doesn’t move, too keyed up to back down, and the longer he looks at Jihoon, the more he notices. How brown his eyes are. The way his eyelashes flutter. The sharp points of his nose, his chin, his cheekbones. 

How soft his lips look.

He lets his gaze drift up from Jihoon’s mouth, back to his eyes, and to his surprise Jihoon isn’t looking straight at him either. His focus is somewhere else, somewhere south of Mingyu’s nose.

He swallows, the air suddenly thick with unnamed tension, and Jihoon’s gaze shoots back up to his.

Neither of them move.

Mingyu is reminded of that moment, two weeks ago, when Jihoon had said “Make me,” the way that moment had hung between them, the intensity in Jihoon’s face matching the way he looks now, pinned against the wall, staring at Mingyu.

His eyes drop to Jihoon’s lips again, the images he’s been shoving aside ever since surging to the front of his mind.

Something in Jihoon’s gaze sparks when he meets his eyes again, and before he quite knows what’s happening there are hands grabbing the front of Mingyu’s t-shirt, pulling him down, and lips pressing against his.

His brain whites out.

All he can do is kiss back, meeting Jihoon halfway, matching every movement of his mouth, the burning anger from before morphing into a fire of need, the need to press himself closer to Jihoon, the need to slide his fingers along the base of his neck and into his hair, which is just as soft between his fingers as he dreamed it would be. All he can do is let himself be consumed by the kiss and its intensity, by the feeling of Jihoon’s body against his, his fingers digging into Mingyu’s shoulders.

It seems like an eternity before they break apart, both breathing heavily. Mingyu blinks, trying to restart his brain, and then looks at Jihoon. “I… what?” he breathes.

Jihoon doesn’t look at him, just shoves his arm down and walks over to the rack of inner tubes.

“Jihoon.”

He doesn’t respond, just stays there, facing away from him.

“Jihoon.” Mingyu’s brain is slowly rebooting, and the anger is gone, leaving him more confused than ever. “I… I think we need to talk.”

“No we don’t.” Jihoon’s voice is quiet. Mingyu has to strain to hear him over the rain.

“You.. you can’t just kiss me like that and then ignore me,” Mingyu says, ashamed at the way his voice cracks on the word ‘kiss’. 

A flush steals up the back of Jihoon’s neck. “You’re…” He trails off, his shoulders creeping toward his ears, before he scoffs and heads toward the door.

He pulls on the handle, but it still doesn’t move.

Mingyu watches as Jihoon struggles with the door, first yanking it, then jiggling the handle, and finally slamming his fists against it in frustration. “Look,” he says, making Jihoon freeze, “we’re stuck in here. We might as well talk.”

Jihoon’s shoulders slump. “Fine,” he mutters, sitting down on the floor, his back to the door, and wrapping his hands around his knees.

Mingyu slowly lowers himself to the floor as well, crossing his legs and inching as close to Jihoon as he dares. After a minute of silence, he sighs. “Just tell me why,” he says quietly. “Why did you kiss me?”

“Why did you kiss me back?” Jihoon responds.

Mingyu feels his face heat. “You first.”

Jihoon keeps his gaze fixed on the floor. “You weren’t going to.”

“What?”

“You weren’t going to kiss me,” Jihoon says, his ears burning bright red, “so I kissed you.”

“I-” Mingyu blinks. “Oh. Okay.”

The rain hammering on the roof is the only sound in the shed for a bit.

“Now you,” Jihoon says, breaking the silence.

“Now me what?”

He rolls his eyes, a tiny smile flitting across his face so quickly Mingyu thinks he imagined it. “Why did you kiss me.”

“Oh, right.” Mingyu plays with the hem on his shirtsleeve, forcing himself to not glance over at Jihoon. “Um… Because I wanted to.”

“You… wanted to.” Jihoon’s voice is small, almost disbelieving, and the faint note of self-deprecation in his voice makes Mingyu’s stomach roll, a flare of not-quite-anger shooting up his spine.

“Yes, I wanted to,” he says firmly. “Even though you yell at me every day. You’re so smart, Jihoon, and precise, and you run this pool like a machine, and you’re so _perfect_ it’s infuriating, and you care so much, and you’re so hardworking, and I’ve been, uh, thinkingaboutkissingyouforthepasttwoweeks.” Mingyu clamps his mouth shut before he can ramble some more and dig himself into an even deeper hole.

“You think I’m perfect?” Jihoon’s voice is sharp, and when Mingyu glances up at him he looks - annoyed, surprisingly. “What about you?”

“Me?” Mingyu points at himself, more confused than ever.

“Yes, you.” Jihoon runs a hand through his hair, and it’s really sexy, and Mingyu forces himself to focus on his words. “Everyone loves you because you’re so stupidly charming. You pay attention and you notice things that no one else does. You’re so friendly, you make friends with everyone, even the grouchy parents, and you know how to keep your head in a crisis, and you _try_ , you always try so hard, you never give up.” Jihoon is breathing hard, like the words are forcing themselves out. “And you think two weeks is bad.” He scoffs, steadfastly not looking at Mingyu. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day you walked in.”

Mingyu’s mouth drops open for a second. “Then…” He scrambles to get his thoughts in order, the revelation shaking him and reigniting lost daydreams, passing thoughts about cuddling with Jihoon and talking to him over lunch and coffee and getting to know him, kissing him on the sidewalk by his house, laughing with him at Seungcheol’s lame jokes, sharing smiles across the pool. “Then why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t,” Jihoon snaps. “I don’t hate you. In case that wasn’t clear enough.”

“Then why all the glaring?” Mingyu leans forward, pressing his hands on the concrete. “Why the constant berating, why the redoing of every task I’d done?”

Jihoon shrinks back against the door, tightening his arms around his knees. “I thought… I thought I could ignore you,” he mumbles. “Find something that wasn’t so perfect, and then maybe I’d stop feeling like… like this. And I needed to keep my hands busy, focus on something that… uh, that wasn’t you.”

Heat rises in Mingyu’s cheeks as he processes Jihoon’s words. “Are you saying,” he starts, feeling the beginning of a smile start, “that you were so into me you needed to keep yourself busy so you wouldn’t jump me?” He inches closer to Jihoon, who makes a noise of protest and buries his head in his knees.

“See, this is why I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles into his legs. “It’s embarrassing.”

Mingyu inches closer again, so much so that their legs are touching, and then throws an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders. “Your line of reasoning is ridiculous,” he says.

Jihoon freezes as Mingyu’s arm drapes across his back, but then, to Mingyu’s surprise, he relaxes into it, leaning slightly into Mingyu’s side. “Yeah, well,” he mumbles. “I never said it was good reasoning.”

“I really thought you hated me,” Mingyu says after a minute. “Like, I’ve always thought you were hot, but I never, you know, did anything about it. Because I thought you hated me.”

Jihoon twists to look at him. “You thought I was hot?” he asks.

Mingyu smiles. “Of course that’s what you got out of that.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, ever since my first day. You were so intimidating, with your serious, attractive face.”

Jihoon smiles back at him, and it lights up his face in a way Mingyu didn’t think possible. “What a pair we make,” he says, chuckling lightly.

“Speaking of that…” Mingyu swallows nervously. “Would you, uh, wanna get dinner, or coffee, whatever you want really, with me? Sometime? So we can talk outside of work? And, I don’t know, see if this goes anywhere?”

Jihoon freezes, blinking rapidly. “Are you… are you asking me on a date, Kim Mingyu?”

“Maybe.” Mingyu feels his face get warm. “Are you accepting?”

Jihoon is silent for a minute that stretches into eternity. Mingyu can feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. Then finally Jihoon smiles, and it feels like a bolt of lightning. “Yes.”

Mingyu matches his grin. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

The tips of Jihoon’s ears flush red. “Yes,” he says again, leaning forward.

This kiss isn’t anything like the first one. This kiss is slow, careful, and filled with promise.

Once the rain dies down, Vernon unlocks the equipment shed, and Mingyu and Jihoon thank him profusely for setting them free. They walk to the lifeguard hut side-by-side, their hands brushing, both wearing tiny, satisfied smiles.

From where they’re watching under the snack bar awning, Minghao and Seungcheol share a grin and a high-five.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to the mods for running this wonderful fest and for putting up with my forgetful ass and my extensions you guys are the best!!!  
> this is my first foray into writing svt fic and i'm really pleased with how it turned out~  
> thank you a million times over to linda and diksha who listened to me rant about this fic for hours i love u so much  
> title from the lyrics to flower which is one of my all time fave svt songs and it just works so WELL for rivals to lovers so i had to ^^  
> and thank you for reading this!!  
> ♥
> 
> [tumblr](https://yixingminseokjongdae.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/allforexot9) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/moon_goddess)


End file.
